


At the Sign of the Cat

by Aglarien



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-17 01:33:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29092077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aglarien/pseuds/Aglarien
Summary: In the middle of a snow storm, Glorfindel, Erestor and Legolas stumble across a mystery at an inn.
Relationships: Glorfindel/Legolas Greenleaf
Comments: 14
Kudos: 15
Collections: 2021 My Slashy Valentine





	At the Sign of the Cat

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Fadesintothewest](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fadesintothewest/gifts).



> Rating: PG - less than minor character death  
> Disclaimer: The Lord of the Rings universe is the sole property of the Tolkien estate. This story is written for enjoyment only and no profit is made.  
> Beta: Phyncke  
> Timeline: Sometime in the second half of the Third Age  
> Author's Notes: Written for Fadesintothewest for My Slashy Valentine 2021, who requested Glorfindel/Legolas and a first meeting. My thanks to the great Agatha Christie, DBE, who posthumously helped me with the plot.

Prelude

The Elf had traveled the Great East Road that stretched from the Tower Hills, the ancient border between the Elven Realm of Lindon and the Kingdom of Arnor, and was nearing the Far Downs, the western border of the Shire. He had wandered withersoever the urge called him, enjoying his travels as he gathered information of what was happening throughout Middle-earth that he needed to report to the king. 

He had hoped to reach the Elven Realm of Imladris before the inclement weather set in, but that was not to be. The village he was heading for was just visible on the horizon, and for the sake of his faithful mount, he hoped he would make its shelter before the brewing winter storm arrived. The inn there had been last owned by a man who catered primarily to that race, with the occasional Hobbit or Elf. With any luck, the Drunken Duck had a new owner and landlord – perhaps even a new name. The Elf had seen the inn change hands and names numerous times over the years, and a kindlier landlord than the one who had owned it the last time he had passed through would be welcome. 

It was snowing in earnest as the Elf entered the courtyard of the inn. The name had been changed to The Cat and the Custard Cup, he noted with interest, wondering anew why Men chose such odd names for their establishments. Did cats even enjoy eating custard? Nearly every window was alight. There was movement in a window on the lowest floor, and he noted with interest that a man, foolish enough to be standing by an open window, appeared to be arguing with someone inside the room. His attention was soon enough drawn past the inn’s courtyard to the stable yard, where several wagons stood, though the horses had all been moved into the stable, it seemed. Apparently the snow storm had driven many travelers to stop at the inn. No matter, as long as there was room for his horse to be well cared for in the stable. He could always share the stall with his Durion if need be. The black stallion stood seventeen hands, and was very dear to the Elf. 

“Here, Sir,” a stableman called, hurrying over to the Elf. “Let me take your horse out of the weather. A beauty, he is, to be sure. I’ll see him dried and well cared for with good grain and warm water. You just leave him with me.” The Hobbit took Durion’s rein as the Elf dismounted. “Sam Lightfoot is my name, it is, Sir. You just leave him with ol’ Sam and get yourself inside the inn. Master Tremble will find you a bed for the night, he will, even if we be that crowded.”

The Elf took his travel pack and nodded at the Hobbit. “His name is Durion. Care for him well and I’ll double this on the morrow.” He handed the Hobbit a large silver coin. He was happy to see that the stableman was a Hobbit, for it boded well for Durion’s care. He spoke quietly to the stallion, took up his travel pack, and headed towards the inn, the Hobbit’s thanks following after him. 

Biting, windblown snow followed him into the building, and he glanced around looking for the innkeeper. Spotting the most likely looking man who was currently giving orders to a chambermaid to light a fire in one of the guest rooms, he waited patiently until the girl hurried down a hall before approaching the man about the likelihood of obtaining accommodation for the night, or until the storm had passed. 

“The storm’s driven many to us this night, Sir,” the innkeeper said, “but mayhap you won’t be without a bed. I’ve a good room with three beds and only two occupied, if you don’t mind sharing with two Elves that is.”

The Elf smiled as he pushed his hood back from around his ears, revealing his pointed ears. “I would not mind at all, and would be grateful for their company, I am sure. But before the room, I should like food, if that can be arranged.”

The innkeeper grinned, clearly pleased. “I believe they’re at supper now, Master.” He took the Elf’s pack, handing it to the returning chambermaid with instructions on which room to take it to. “Tremble’s my name. And what may be your name, good Sir?”

“Green,” the Elf said. “My name is Green.”

Chapter One

The two Elves sat at a table in a semi-isolated alcove of the common room, one end of the table against the frosted window and the other abutting a wall, where they could observe the goings on and speak to each other without shouting. 

“I hope this storm passes quickly,” the dark haired Elf said. He tore off a piece of his bread and dipped it into the meaty stew they had been served. “I am anxious to get home again. And this food is much improved from the last time we stopped here.”

“It is,” said his companion. “Master Tremble appears to not only be a kindlier innkeeper, but a more generous one as well. I have high hopes for the state of the linens on our beds.” The golden haired Elf chuckled. “And I like the black cat the inn is apparently named after better than the drunken duck.” He motioned to the animal curled up beside them in her warm rug on the window sill. His eyes moved to the front of the inn. “Erestor, I do believe that another Elf has just entered the inn, and it appears that our host is leading him over to us. Perhaps from the Woodland Realm, by the look. Do you know him?”

Erestor looked up and a smile sparkled from his eyes to span his entire face. He stood and said, “I do indeed.” When the Elf reached their table, Erestor embraced him as a friend, holding the slender, fair-haired Elf in his arms for a moment. 

The Elf returned the embrace. “I was happy to hear there were other Elves here and looking forward to their company, and who do I find but an old dear friend!”

Erestor’s companion observed the greeting of the friends with interest. He enjoyed Erestor’s company greatly, but the addition of another Elf, especially a friend of Erestor’s as this one appeared to be, promised lively conversation and diversion. 

“And a new one, too, I hope,” Erestor said, motioning toward his companion. “Legolas Thranduilion, may I introduce you to Glorfindel of Imladris, formerly of Gondolin?”

Legolas’ eye brows shot up and he bowed to Glorfindel, a hand over his heart. “I am honored, my Lord.”

“As am I.” Glorfindel responded by standing and returning the gesture, noting that Legolas’ stature matched his own. Master Tremble, on seeing Erestor greet Legolas, had scurried off, presumably to fetch more food. “Please, sit and join us.” He gestured to the empty chair. “Elrond has told me of you and your father, as Erestor has, but tell us, what brings you here?” 

Legolas sat gratefully. “Every few decades my father sends me out to wander around Arda, seeking out any coming troubles that we need to be aware of. I travel alone so I can move quickly.”

“And have you found anything?” Erestor asked, just as Glorfindel asked, “Have you found any trouble?”

“Things that concern the realms of men more than Elves, although Elrond will wish to know about a coming threat to Gondor,” Legolas said. “The Easterlings are attempting to gather Haradrim and Variags from Khand to attack Gondor.” 

“Gondor is still weakened by the Great Plague,” Erestor said, “but Elrond will want to send word to them.”

“Perhaps it will give them time to be better prepared,” Glorfindel added. 

“All is at peace in the Elven realms,” Legolas said, just as Tremble returned to the table with a tray of food and drink. The three Elves ate for several moments before anyone spoke again.

“The food is much improved since the last time I was here,” Legolas said. “This stew is really very good. I even have hope for a clean bed this night!”

Glorfindel chuckled. “We said the same before you arrived.” He liked Legolas, this good friend of Erestor’s. He was bright and pleasant, and strikingly handsome. 

“And is that the cat, do you think,” Legolas said, lifting his knife in the direction of the sleeping black cat, his eyes twinkling. “Do you think she really likes custard? I had it once in a village inn in the Shire, and it was quite sweet.”

Any further conversation was broken off by a scream and the sound of running feet, as a chambermaid frantically ran into the room, clearly searching for Master Tremble.

“Whatever is wrong with you, Molly,” Tremble said, pulling the girl aside. 

“Master, he be dead! That evil man in the room be dead!” the maid sputtered out. “I went to the room to light his fire, and there be a great knife sticking in his chest!” 

“What man?” Tremble demanded.

“Cradd, Master,” the girl answered. “Peter Cradd, the varlet. Devil take him. I didn’t do it, Master, I didn’t. I didn’t kill him!”

“No of course you didn’t, Molly,” Tremble said soothingly. 

The Elves calmly continued to eat their meal, all the while listening to the exchange intently. Tremble and the maid were speaking softly, but not softly enough for Elven ears.

“A mystery,” Glorfindel said quietly. 

“A diversion,” Legolas offered in reply, a smile hovering on his lips.

“I believe we should offer our assistance to our good host,” Erestor added. “Unless you would rather a game of chess?”

Glorfindel stifled an inelegant snort of laughter and wiped his mouth with his napkin before standing. “Shall we?”

The three Elves approached Tremble and the chambermaid. “May we be of assistance?” Erestor asked. 

Tremble sighed, perhaps in relief, Glorfindel thought. “I’d be grateful if you could,” the innkeeper said. “The storm’s too heavy to send anyone to the authorities for help, and the other travelers here would have nothing to do with the man’s death.”

“Why do you say that?” Legolas asked. “Perhaps it was another traveler who killed him?”

“Not likely,” said Tremble in reply. “Come away to where he is and I’ll tell you.” He and the maid led the Elves down the hall to a room on the ground floor at the end of a corridor. Molly had left the door open, and the body of the man was visible where it lay on the floor.

Legolas entered the room first and looked down at the dead man. “I saw this man when I arrived,” he said. I thought it strange that he was in the room with the window open, and then he appeared to be arguing with someone on the other side of the room out of my sight.”

“The window be shut now, Sir,” Molly said, closing the door behind the other Elves. “It were shut when I came in here and found him. I didn’t kill him, Master.” 

“Of course you didn’t, Molly,” Tremble said. “You had no cause to.”

Molly was silent for a moment, her eyes on her feet, and then she spoke quietly. “But I did, Master. Peter Cradd tried to say I were a bad girl and that I sold myself. He’d come around one, two times a year and make me pay him. Said he’d tell everyone so and I wouldn’t find work unless I paid him. I paid him, but then you came, Master, and you were right nice to all of us and I could see you were a good man, so I were going to tell him I wouldn’t pay him no more.”

“Was it you arguing with him in this room earlier, Molly?” Glorfindel asked gently.

“No, Sir! It weren’t me. I swear. I knew he were here, but I stayed away from him tonight. He weren’t likely to keep me from my work where folk would know I was talking to him.”

“Peter Cradd was a rogue and a blackguard,” Tremble said. “He was a blackmailer. Actually tried it on me right after I purchased the inn six months ago and I sent him packing. I don’t know who gave him this room tonight, we’ve been that busy with the storm.”

Molly was looking at her feet again. “Do you know who gave him the room, Molly?” Glorfindel asked.

“Best you ask Jack Tavernack, Sir,” the maid replied.

“Tavernack?” Tremble looked surprised. “The cook? Why would he….Molly, was Cradd blackmailing Jack, too?”

“May be, Master. May be.” 

“Leave us for now, both of you, and go about your work,” Glorfindel told the innkeeper and the maid. “Don’t say anything to Tavernack. We will speak to him after he is done with his work for the day or in the morning, depending on what we find.” 

Tremble looked slightly hesitant, but drew the girl out with him and shut the door behind them.

Chapter Two

“I’ll search his body,” Glorfindel said. He’d had a lot of experience dealing with the dead during his long life, and it no longer bothered him. He knew what lay beyond now, and there was no fear in a good man’s death. What happened to evil men he didn’t care to think about. “Legolas, you take his travel pack, and Erestor you search the room.”

The three worked in silence for long minutes until Erestor finally spoke. “Doesn’t that toy sheep seem out of place to you?” he asked, pointing down to the cloth toy that sat on the table beside a tray with the remains of Cradd’s supper. “What would a blackmailer be doing with a toy sheep?” He picked it up, examining it closely, pressing and feeling it, before removing his knife from its holder at his waist and slitting a seam. Tightly folded pieces of paper fell to the table. “Well, well. What have we here?”

The Elves carefully unfolded each paper. Each had the name of a village, followed by a list of names and numbers. “Presumably lists of Cradd’s victims,” Erestor said, “and the amount of coin he was collecting from each of them.” When they found the name of the village where they were, there was indeed the name of Tavernack, but it did not belong to Jack. It belonged to Maerwynn. “And just who is Maerwynn Tavernack?” 

“His wife, do you suppose? Or his daughter?” Legolas conjectured. 

“No doubt we shall find out, but come and look at this,” Glorfindel said. “Do you note the way the body has fallen, and the position of the knife in his chest? First of all, young Molly did not strike the blow. It’s too high in his chest and was too powerful a blow, for it cut through bone. She has not the height, nor the power. The blade is through the heart and death would have been quick, so Cradd did not turn after he was stabbed. The blow came from someone who stood between the window and the victim, presumably in front of the open window. I’ll warrant it happened soon after you saw him, Legolas, for the body had begun to cool by the time we arrived.”

Legolas examined the window, opening and closing it and raising the latch up and down. He opened the window wide, and then climbed through it, dropping to the ground below. Glorfindel raised an eyebrow at him, but said nothing, waiting patiently as Legolas used a bit of his tunic to draw the window to, and when it was closed, the latch dropped into place, as if it had been closed from inside the room.

“Well done, Legolas!” Glorfindel exclaimed, opening the window and offering Legolas a hand up. “The killer probably did exactly the same, with no evidence left after the snowfall. He could have calmly walked back into the inn or gone to the stable, or even into the village.”

“It could be anyone,” Erestor said. “There are five names on that list for this place.”

Legolas tilted his head and gazed appraisingly at the window before once again climbing through it and dropping onto the ground. “Do not move,” he told the others. He took out his knife, raised his arm, and the knife flew through the air and deep into the heavy fireplace surround across the room. “The knife could have come from outside the open window, and could have nothing to do with the person he was arguing with,” he said. He vaulted over the windowsill and back into the room, closing the window behind him. “It would take a strong throw from someone as tall, or nearly as tall, as you or I.”

“It could have been someone who was not even staying at the inn,” Glorfindel said. “Someone who followed Cradd here perhaps?”

“But then why have the window opened?” Erestor asked. “He was arguing with someone in the room when Legolas saw him, and the window was open.”

“And why leave the knife in the man if it was someone in the room?” Glorfindel mused. “It is a perfectly fine blade. Not many men would leave a good knife that might be identified with him.” He removed the blade from the body, and after wiping it clean and wrapping it in a cloth, placed it in the bag that hung from his waist. “We should tell Tremble that the body can be removed and stored in an appropriate place until they can bury it.”

“Where is the list of names that belong to the village nearest this one?” Legolas asked. “I think we should ask Tremble if he knows the people who are on that list.

After hunting Tremble down and telling him the man’s body could be removed, the Elves learned that the other three names on the list for the inn’s village were very elderly folk, two of them a married couple. Cradd had apparently found a way to blackmail each of them with some secret they were keeping from the other, and the Elves were glad the old couple would be free of him. The fifth was not only getting on in years, but had little eyesight left. The chance that he would have been able to kill the blackmailer was deemed not worth considering. But the list of names from the neighboring village was of more interest. Not only was one Alwin of Stow a strong and tall farmer, but he had been seen in the stable yard of the inn earlier in the day, delivering a load of hay.

The common room had largely emptied in the intervening time, and they sat at the same table where they had eaten their meal, waiting for Tremble to bring the cook, Jack Tavernack, to them. It did not take long before Tremble and Tavernack stood before them.

“I am sure you have heard from Molly or Master Tremble what has happened,” Glorfindel said. “Will you tell us who is Maerwynn Tavernack? And do you know what her relationship with the man named Cradd was?” The man looked like he wanted to bolt, and Glorfindel was prepared to grab him, if need be, but he could see the resignation in the man’s eyes a moment later.

“She were my wife,” Tavernack said, the slouch in his frame reflected in his voice. “I lost her to the Great Sickness six months ago it is now.”

“You have our condolences,” Legolas said. “The Great Sickness was a terrible thing.” He paused for a moment and then asked, “Was Cradd blackmailing her? It was your voice I heard with him in his room, was it not?”

“Aye, it were me,” Tavernack said. “I told him she were dead, and not another copper would he be getting from her or me. I don’t know what he had over her, for she would never tell me, but I’m that grateful the man is dead. I knew he were blackmailing her.”

“Did you let him in the inn and give him the room?” Erestor asked. “Master Tremble says it was not him.”

“Aye, that were me too. I knew he’d be coming this month, and I told Sam in the stable to keep an eye open for him and run get me when he showed. He did. Near everyone here knew what kind of scoundrel Cradd were. I took him to the room and told him my Maerwynn were gone, and he was to get himself out and clear of here by first morning light. That were before the storm, you see.”

“Did you kill him?” Legolas asked quietly. 

Tavernack shook his head vehemently. “Never. I never went near him after we argued and the staff in the kitchen will tell you so!”

“Do you know where Cradd is from? What village or area?” Glorfindel asked.

Tavernack shook his head. “No, Sir. No one knows. He just shows up here once or twice a year. I don’t think he be from anywhere close by like.”

Chapter Three

The three Elves were led to their room by Tremble himself. There was a fire in the hearth warming the room, with buckets of hot water for washing sitting on the hearthstones. Legolas was just about to ask Tremble for refreshment when Molly entered the room with a tray containing a steaming tea pot, mugs, and a plate of oat cakes, cheese, and biscuits. They had cut their meal short, and he was hungry again. He nodded his thanks at the innkeeper before asking, “Do you think Cradd was killed by Alwin of Stow?”

Tremble shrugged. “That I cannot say. He seems like a good man to me, but I have known him only since I came here.”

“It seems all too unsatisfactory to me,” Legolas said. “Too neat and simple to blame it on someone in another village. How did you come to know of him? He is not from this village.” 

“We needed more hay than the farmers here could provide, so Sam in the stables told me of him.”

“What will you do now? Will you tell the authorities about the lists and the blackmailing, and about Alwin?” Legolas asked. 

Tremble thought for a moment. “Doesn’t seem right. Like you said, Sir, too easy and simple to accuse Alwin. He’s a good, hard-working man, which is more than I can say for Cradd. Maybe it’s better to just bury him and be done with him. Seems a fitting end to him. The authorities won’t be hearing anything from me about it.”

Glorfindel looked up from his tea and the oat cake he was eating. “Legolas, was there coin in Cradd’s pack? Had he been robbed? I found none on his body.”

“Aye,” Legolas replied. “A heavy bag of coin. I left it in his pack in the room. Whoever killed him did not rob him. Perhaps Master Tremble can distribute it amongst his victims? At least the ones in the area?”

The innkeeper nodded. “I can do that. I’ll go and get it now then, before someone takes it. That’s a kind idea, Master.”

After Tremble took his leave and left the Elves on their own, they ate the rest of their meal in silence, each lost in his own thoughts. 

“I suppose Tremble will keep the blackmailer’s horse,” Erestor said. “Fair payment for the trouble he’s brought to this place and for taking care of the man’s burial.”

“So if Alwin of Stow is far too easy a solution for who killed Cradd, then who did?” Glorfindel mused. “I don’t believe Tavernack did. There was truth in his eyes.”

“Agreed,” Legolas said. “It could have been anyone who was in that common room tonight. We have far too many suspects and not enough clues.”

“Perhaps tomorrow will bring more clarity,” Erestor said, “but I, for one, am tired. I will take the far bed for my rest. The two of you will not keep me from it if you remain awake and continue to talk.” 

After Erestor had retired to his bed, Legolas quietly spoke. “Tell me how you find Imladris? Is it very different from what life in Gondolin was like?”

“Yes, it is different. Very different. And though I dearly loved my former life in Gondolin, I love this new life in Imladris all the more. It is simpler in many ways, and I could ask for no dearer friends than Elrond and Erestor, and all the others there.” Glorfindel poured himself another cup of tea and stretched out comfortably in his chair. “And you? What is it like in the Greenwood. Is it not challenging to have to always be on the watch for the giant spiders?”

“We guard our land well, and keep the spiders in their dark pockets of evil. The lands where we live are pleasant and green and thick with beeches.”

The two Elves sat and talked quietly through most of the night, sharing stories of their lives and loves. It was in the early hours of the morning before the coming of dawn that Legolas realized that Glorfindel would be very easy to love, and were it not for his duty to his father and his home, he could easily join the other Elf in Imladris.

In the morning, the three Elves braved the heavy snowdrifts to the stable to check on their mounts. Sam Lightfoot was found at Durion’s side. He held one of the horse’s hooves in his hand, and was using a knife to scrape it clean. He looked up as the Elves entered, released the horse’s hoof, and in one swift movement, expertly threw the knife to embed it into the stable wall. “Have you come to check your horses, Sirs? They all be right as rain, as you can see!”

Legolas refrained from saying anything about the knife, as did the others, and after ascertaining that their animals were well, hurried back into the inn, where they sat at the same secluded table to break their fast. 

“Sam Lightfoot?” Legolas asked in a whisper. “That kind old Hobbit? You saw how well he cared for our horses. I cannot believe he could kill a man.”

“It is rather hard to fathom,” Glorfindel added. “Could he have taught someone to do the deed? He certainly is clever with a knife. What do you think, Erestor?”

Erestor did not reply. He was instead focused on watching the room, which was full of most of the same folk who had been there the night before. Legolas followed Erestor’s eyes to see what he was watching. Some of the men were outwardly calm, but with restive eyes. Others were clearly uneasy. All were watching them with stolen glances and furtive stares behind a mug or piece of bread.

“Erestor?” Glorfindel asked again.

“Look at them,” Erestor whispered, focusing now at the platter of breakfast Molly had put in front of them almost as soon as they’d seated themselves. “Do you not see it? They are all watching us. They are afraid of what we know. Afraid of what we will do. They’re not even talking above whispers, and not many of those. They wait on us, on what we will do.”

“So who did it?” Glorfindel asked.

Legolas had caught onto what Erestor was thinking. “All of them,” he whispered down into his plate. “They were all involved with it, except perhaps for Tremble. They were all tired of Cradd bleeding them dry and they set him up to come here, I’d wager. It was all planned.”

Glorfindel looked around the room. “Yes, I see your point now, too. I’m not sure who you mean by all of them, but my guess is all or most of them in this room. I think Tremble had to have known, even if he didn’t take part. He’s no fool. Did you note that most of the people here are from this village? There are not near enough animals in the stable for all of them to be travelers. And the man sitting with that group at back table near the hearth is probably Alwin of Stow. Do you see the hay sticking to his clothing still? There was a wagon in the stable this morning that looked to have been carrying hay. The elderly man and woman the next table over who are looking so afraid and uncomfortable are likely Cradd’s victims, too. Why would the inn be full of locals during this storm? Would they not be more likely to be in their homes?”

“So what do we do now?” Legolas asked. 

“Indeed,” Erestor responded. “What indeed. What they did was surely deliver justice to the man. It is time to put an end to this.”

Across the room, Sam Lightfoot had just entered through a back door, carrying a load of fire wood and heading toward the hearth. Erestor, not standing up, spoke loudly enough for the whole room to hear him. “Did you throw the knife that killed him, Sam? Or did you teach your skill to someone else?”

The Hobbit froze and did not say a word.

“I killed him,” called out a man’s voice from the middle of a crowded table. “Sam had nothing to do with it!”

“No, it was I. I did it!”

“It were me!”

“I did it!”

“And me!”

“And me!”

The room filled with many more voices protesting the same fact, mostly male voices but several female ones.

Erestor stood and faced the room. His gaze roamed the room and met the eyes of many of the braver inhabitants. “I see,” he finally said. “I take it the whole village and perhaps folk from others, stood as jury and judge in his trial and found him guilty. Well then, Master Tremble, I regret that we will not be able to find the murderer for you after all, for Cradd was surely killed by just one knife blade. It seems that murder is no longer an apt word, however. Let us call it an execution, shall we?” He scanned the room and found a scared looking Molly standing with a tray in her hands by the kitchen door. “Molly, would you be good enough to bring us a fresh pot of tea and some of those lovely hot scones you appear to be holding? Oh, and Master Tremble, perhaps now would be a good time to distribute Cradd’s ill-gotten gains to this group of worthy folk?” 

The Elves smiled among themselves, satisfied with the outcome, and settled in to enjoy their meal.

~~~

The following morning, the storm was long past, and the warm sunlight sparkled off the fresh mountains of white. Erestor finished his packing first, and left the other two Elves to settle their bill and take his traveling pack down to the stable. 

“Legolas, I want you to know how very much I have enjoyed your company. I wish we had more time together. Were it not for my oath to serve Imladris and Lord Elrond….” Glorfindel’s voice trailed off. 

“I know,” Legolas replied, leaving the stowing of his knives and moving to stand in front of Glorfindel. “Were it not for my oath to my father and my duty to the Greenwood….” He placed a hand against Glorfindel’s check, and leaned in to kiss him softly on the mouth. “…I would leave it all behind to follow you. But each of us has his own path to tread, his own tasks that must be performed.”

“I have a feeling we will meet again, Legolas Thranduilion,” Glorfindel said, before leaning in for another kiss.

~~~

Glorfindel sighed as he and Erestor watched Legolas ride off down the western road, while they turned their mounts to north. “I’m going to miss Legolas greatly,” Glorfindel said. “I admit to growing rather fond of him over the past two days.”

Erestor appeared deep in thought, and Glorfindel looked at him quizzically. “What is it? Is something amiss?”

Erestor shook his head as if to clear it. “No, nothing is amiss. Just something I …saw.”

“You and Elrond and your foresight! Well, are you going to tell me?”

Erestor smiled. “When all the Valar requires of each of you is completed and the last of the Elves leave these shores, you will see Legolas again, far to the west in the undying lands. It is all I can tell you, but I have seen you there, at his side.”

Glorfindel grinned, and urged his mount ahead. 

~the end


End file.
